


The End of the Story

by spaceorphan



Category: Glee
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 01:43:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2833544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceorphan/pseuds/spaceorphan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine's final conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End of the Story

When Blaine’s health passed the point of no return, Kurt fought to bring him home. People should get to die with some dignity, he told the doctors, not in some cold hospital covered in wires, but in your own home surrounded by familiar things, by those who love you the most. But Blaine spends most of his days asleep, and four days after they brought him home, Kurt begins to realize it wasn’t for Blaine’s comfort he fought so hard--it was for his own. 

“I brought you some of that tea you like,” Kurt says, bringing the tray into the bedroom they share, and carefully setting on the nightstand, deliberately not thinking about how it will remain there getting cold. “I found some at the store yesterday. Remember we thought they had stopped making it? But I think the store had stopped stocking it for a while, That’s because it tastes awful, Blaine. I don’t know how you drink it--you might have been the only person on the planet who actually drank it. You, and that woman behind the counter of that coffee shop that used to be around the corner. Remember her? She’s the one who used to tell you that you had pretty eyes, and would give you extra foam when you ordered a latte--and the two of you bonded over that god awful tea.” 

Blaine doesn’t respond. Blaine never responds. He’s lying on his back, one hand on his stomach, the other at his side, quietly sleeping, the same as he’s been for the past four days. The late evening sun streams through the window, silhouetting Blaine. Kurt stops to watch him, his beautiful husband, his chest rise and fall. He’s still breathing--Kurt thinks gratefully. He’s still breathing.

“Rachel’s daughter stopped a little while ago,” Kurt says, making his way around the room. He doesn’t sit in his lounge chair--the one the nurse helped bring in from the living room four days ago, the one he’s spent most of his time in these days. He’s too antsy to sit. “She just left before I made you your tea. She finally brought a birthday present. My birthday was two days ago, but you were asleep for it. That’s okay. It was a nice day, Rachel’s daughter stopped by, and made sure I had a nice dinner. She brought cheesecake, too. You would have liked it--it had raspberry topping. She got it from the new cheesecake place down the street. It’s not as good Jenny’s Little Shop down on 5th, but that hasn’t been around in thirty years, has it.” 

He stops at the dresser, and opens the bottom drawer. It’s a little sticky, and the dusty pictures on the top of prom, of their wedding, of their life, rattle a little. He pulls out a pair of navy, silk pajamas, he hasn’t worn them in a long time, but they’ve always been Blaine’s favorite, and he wants to wear them now, even if it is a little too warm for them. 

“Anyway, what was I--oh my present,” he continues as he carefully changes out of his clothes and into his pajamas. “She got me a room in the same place Rachel stayed at the end, and she’s helping pay for it. I haven’t seen it yet, but I hear it’s a lovely single.” 

He pauses to take a look around the room, such a familiar place--where they spent the last twenty years. They retired to this home, and god, he doesn’t want to leave it. “I sold the house,” he stops for a moment, as if waiting for a protest that doesn’t come. “But don’t worry, it’s to Sam and Mercedes’s grandson, Joe. The one you like--the one who became an art teacher? He’s getting married, and wants to start a family. This place has always been a little too big for us. Why not let someone who will have a big family have it? They promised not to cut down your tree. They’ll be good here, I think.” 

“You woke up yesterday,” he continues as he opens the closet to put his clothes in the hamper. A rainbow of bowties dance against the back of the door. He tries not to look at them--not to think that eventually, they’ll need to be boxed up and sent away. “You had a hard time, because you thought you and your brother had a falling out--but I had to remind you that you guys patched it up years ago. You wanted to call him. I didn’t have the heart to tell you he’s been dead for fifteen years. It was a struggle. But at least you remembered me this time--better than last week, and thought you were a little boy, and I scared you so much. I actually scared you, Blaine. That was hard.” 

Kurt joins Blaine on the bed, slowly lowering himself onto his side so that he can face him, really look at him. Blaine hasn’t changed that much, Kurt thinks. He’s older, and wrinkled, and the color in his hair is gone, but old age has been kind and he’s still the most handsome man he has ever seen. After all these years, he still takes Kurt’s breath away. 

“You know what this reminds me of?” he says after a long minute. “Do you remember that time we went on vacation to the Greek Islands back in our early thirties? Dad and Carole had given us enough money for our anniversary and we decided to have a second honeymoon? Or a real one, really. And the by the second day, you had spent so much time in the sun you were burnt to a crisp. And I was so mad at you because we couldn’t have sex. And we tried to have sex anyway, and that just made things worse. Remember we spent most of the rest of the time there just walking around the little town, finding small shops to go into, and in the evening, we’d stay up late just talking to each other? That was the best week I think we ever had. Anyway, it feels like that now, only, I’m doing all the talking I guess--but you’ve always been a good listener. I miss your laugh, though. And your bad puns. And your voice. And I miss our conversations. And our routines. And even our fights. I miss everything. And I am so, so angry because why are you going first? I’m the one who is older, and I’m the one who has cancer, and I’m the one who has to keep burying the people he loves. Why do I have to be the one who keeps doing that, Blaine? Why? I’m so tired, Blaine, so very tired. I have always been the one who thought they could do it on their own, but I’m not so sure of that anymore. You are my best friend, Blaine. And I don’t know how to be without you anymore. And I don’t want to be alone.” 

Kurt finally breaks, wrapping an arm around Blaine, and squeezing tight as he cries into his shoulder. 

His heart hurts. His everything hurts. He doesn’t want to say goodbye. He won’t. 

“Kurt?” Blaine moans, his eyes fluttering, though not fully awake.

Kurt sits up and is quick to wipe the tears from his cheeks before settling a hand over Blaine’s. “Yes, love?”

“Kurt?” Blaine’s awake suddenly, his eyes darting around the room as if he can’t tell where he is.

“I’m right here,” Kurt squeezes Blaine’s hand harder, and Blaine turns his head to look at him. 

Blaine’s face is blank, and for a moment, Kurt fears that Blaine doesn’t recognize him. But then Blaine’s face softens, that sweet smile Kurt knows so well climbing on his lips. 

“Oh, there you are,” Blaine says, barely a whisper. His eyes are wide, and vivid gold and so, so happy to see him. 

“Yes, I’m here.” Kurt can hardly choke back a sob, grateful to have another moment with him. He cups Blaine’s cheek, and caresses it gently with his thumb. 

Blaine searches his face for a moment, confused--maybe as to why Kurt’s so upset, but Blaine only stares for a long time before his eyelids become droopy once again. 

“Kurt?” His voice is fading again, his eyes falling shut.

“Yes, love?” Every time he goes under, it gets a little bit harder, another twist in his heart. Why are these moments getting shorter and shorter? Why does it have to end? 

“Kurt?” Blaine’s voice is raspy and slow. Their time is almost up. “Meet me at the bottom of the staircase, okay?”

“Okay,” Kurt’s voice cracks as a memory from over seventy years ago resurfaces as if it had happened yesterday. 

“Don’t wanna be late for…” Blaine trails off, having fallen asleep before finishing the thought. 

“I love you so much,” Kurt says, tears streaming down his cheeks again. “I promise I’ll meet you there soon, okay? I promise.” 

He reaches over to give Blaine’s forehead, his nose, his lips a kiss before settling down against his side. He rests his head against Blaine’s shoulder and snuggles close. It’s not fully evening yet, but he listens to the slowing sound of Blaine’s breathing, and eventually falls asleep against his husband one final time.


End file.
